Twelfth Night: Act I

By

William Shakespeare

Adapted by the SL Shakespeare Company

From the First Folio & Moby Shakespeare

ACT 1 SCENE 1

Enter Duke Orsino. Orsino is on the extended balcony, while

everyone else is below. Curio and musicians (and perhaps

other lords) are below on the main stage floor, separated by

a bank of violets. Curio is sitting on a chair, eating some

hunt food. Musicians start out playing but pause suddenly in

silence when Orsino pops out to view on the balcony; they

resume when Orsino gives the word.

DUKE ORSINO

(paces on floor when rambling,

freezes dramatically when

making a point)

If music be the food of Love...

play on, give me excess of it:

(gestures to musicians,

then looks down at Curio et

al)

that surfeiting, the appetite may

sicken, and so die... That strained

again, it had a dying fall: O, it

came o’er my ear, like the sweet

sound that breathès upon a bank of

Violets; stealing and giving odour.

(pensive nostalgic, chin on

hands on balcony, peering down

at the bank of violets below.

then suddenly backs away.)

Enough, no more, ’tis not so sweet

now, as it was before. O Spirit of

love, how quick and fresh art thou,

that notwithstanding thy capacity,

receiveth as the Sea. Nought enters

there, of what validity, and pitch

so ere, but falls into abatement,

and low price even in a minute; so

full of shapes is fancy, that it

alone, is high fantastical...

Musicians continue playing until the song ends.

CURIO

Will you go hunt, my Lord?

DUKE ORSINO

(immediately)

What Curio?

CURIO

The Hart.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 2.

DUKE ORSINO

Why, so I do, the Noblest that I

have: O when mine eyes did see

Olivia first, methought she purg’d

the air of pestilence; that instant

was I turn’d into a Hart, and my

desires, like fell and cruel

hounds, ere since pursue me.

Curio, who has finished eating, hmmph’s and leaves. The

musicians follow him, leaving Duke Orsino alone.

Enter Valentine from one of the lower doors.

DUKE ORSINO

How now what news from her?

VALENTINE

So please my lord, I might not be

admitted, but from her handmaid do

return this answer: the element

itself till seven years’ heat shall

not behold her face at ample view,

but like a cloistress she will

veilèd walk, and water once a day

her chamber round with

eye-offending brine - all this to

season a brother’s dead love, which

she would keep fresh and lasting in

her sad remembrance.

DUKE ORSINO

(very dreamily)

O, she that hath a heart of that

fine frame to pay this debt of love

but to a brother, how will she love

when the rich golden shaft hath

kill’d the flock of all affections

else that live in her - when liver,

brain, and heart, these sovereign

thrones, are all supplied, and

fill’d her sweet perfections with

one self king!

(Approaches balcony

bannister/edge again)

Away before me to sweet beds of

flowers: Love-thoughts lie rich

when canopied with bowers.

Duke Orsino jumps and falls into the bed of violets on the

main floor. Blackout.

3.

ACT 1 SCENE 2

Viola and Captain are each sitting beneath a palm tree (each

located where Globe stage columns are), staring at the

audience.

VIOLA

What country, friend, is this?

CAPTAIN

This is Illyria, lady.

VIOLA

And what should I do in Illyria? My

brother he is in Elysium. Perchance

he is not drown’d. What think you,

sailor?

CAPTAIN

It is perchance that you yourself

were sav’d.

VIOLA

O, my poor brother! And so

perchance may he be.

CAPTAIN

True, madam, and to comfort you

with chance, assure yourself, after

our ship did split, when you and

those poor number sav’d with you

hung on our driving boat, I saw

your brother, most provident in

peril, bind himself (courage and

hope both teaching him the

practice) to a strong mast that

liv’d upon the sea; where, like

Arion on the dolphin’s back, I saw

him hold acquaintance with the

waves so long as I could see.

VIOLA

For saying so, there’s gold.

Viola gets up from her palm tree, and walks over to the

Captain’s tree. Captain stands to receive coins. Viola

returns to palm tree. Both stare at the audience again.

VIOLA

Mine own escape unfoldeth to my

hope, whereto thy speech serves for

authority, the like of him. Know’st

thou this country?

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 4.

CAPTAIN

Ay, madam, well, for I was bred and

born not three hours’ travel from

this very place.

VIOLA

Who governs here?

CAPTAIN

A noble duke, in nature as in name.

VIOLA

What is his name?

CAPTAIN

Orsino.

VIOLA

Orsino? I have heard my father name

him... He was a bachelor then.

CAPTAIN

And so is now, or was so very late,

for but a month ago I went from

hence, and then ’twas fresh in

murmur - as you know, what great

ones do, the less will prattle of -

that he did seek the love of fair

Olivia.

VIOLA

What’s she? (listens intently)

CAPTAIN

A virtuous maid, the daughter of a

count that died some twelvemonth

since, then leaving her in the

protection of his son, her brother,

who shortly also died, for whose

dear love, they say, she hath

abjur’d the sight and company of

men.

VIOLA

(immediately)

O that I serv’d that lady, and

might not be deliver’d to the world

till I had made mine own occasion

mellow, what my estate is.

CAPTAIN

That were hard to compass, because

she will admit no kind of suit -

no, not the Duke’s.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 5.

VIOLA

There is fair behavior in thee,

Captain, and though that nature

with a beauteous wall doth oft

close in pollution, yet of thee I

will believe thou hast a mind that

suits with this thy fair and

outward character.

Viola rises and looks towards the Captain. The captain also

rises and looks towards Viola.

VIOLA

I prithee - and I’ll pay thee

bounteously - conceal me what I am,

and be my aid for such disguise as

haply shall become the form of my

intent. I’ll serve the duke: thou

shalt present me as an eunuch to

him. It may be worth thy pains, for

I can sing, and speak to him in

many sorts of music that will allow

me very worth his service. What

else may hap, to time I will commit

- only shape thou thy silence to my

wit.

They meet centerstage, in accord.

CAPTAIN

Be you this eunuch, and your mute

I’ll be: when my tongue blabs, then

let mine eyes not see.

VIOLA

I thank thee. Lead me on.

ACT 1 SCENE 3

Enter Toby and Maria, but from different doors: Toby enters

from a tavern, while Maria enters (from within Olivia’s

house) and descends the stairs to street level. There’s a

Taurus sign above the tavern.

TOBY

What a plague means my niece to

take the death of her brother thus?

I am sure care’s an enemy to life.

MARIA

By my troth, Sir Toby, you must

come in earlier anights. Your

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 6.

MARIA (cont’d)

cousin, my lady, takes great

exceptions to your ill hours.

TOBY

Why, let her except, before

excepted.

MARIA

Ay, but you must confine yourself

within the modest limits of order.

TOBY

’Confine’? I’ll confine myself no

finer than I am. These clothes are

good enough to drink in, and so be

these boots too; an they be not,

let them hang themselves in their

own straps!

MARIA

That quaffing and drinking will

undo you. I heard my lady talk of

it yesterday, and of a foolish

knight that you brought in one

night here, to be her wooer.

TOBY

Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?

MARIA

Ay, he.

TOBY

He’s as tall a man as any’s in

Illyria.

MARIA

What’s that to th’purpose?

TOBY

Why, he has three thousand ducats a

year.

MARIA

Ay, but he’ll have but a year in

all these ducats. He’s a very fool,

and a prodigal.

TOBY

Fie, that you’ll say so! He plays

o’th’viol-de-gamboys, and speaks

three or four languages word for

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 7.

TOBY (cont’d)

word without book, and hath all the

good gifts of nature.

MARIA

He hath indeed, almost natural: for

besides that he’s a fool, he’s a

great quarreler, and but that he

hath the gift of a coward to allay

the gust he hath in quarreling,

’tis thought among the prudent he

would quickly have the gift of a

grave.

TOBY

By this hand, they are scoundrels

and subtractors that say so of him.

Who are they?

MARIA

They that add, moreover, he’s drunk

nightly in your company.

TOBY

With drinking healths to my niece.

I’ll drink to her as long as there

is a passage in my throat and drink

in Illyria. He’s a coward and a

coistrel that will not drink to my

niece till his brains turn o’th’toe

like a parish top. What, wench?

Castiliano vulgo, for here comes

Sir Andrew Agueface!

(turns and takes a few steps

back towards tavern)

Enter Sir Andrew Aguecheek with a bottle of Castiliano Vulgo

ANDREW

Sir Toby Belch? How now, Sir Toby

Belch?

(walks to Maria drunkenly

before waiting for Toby’s

response)

TOBY

Sweet Sir Andrew.

ANDREW

(faces Toby, but stands next

to Maria)

Bless you, fair shrew.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 8.

MARIA

And you too, sir.

TOBY

Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.

ANDREW

(walks over to Toby again)

What’s that?

TOBY

My niece’s chambermaid.

ANDREW

(faces Maria)

Good Mistress Accost, I desire

better acquaintance.

MARIA

My name is Mary sir.

ANDREW

Good Mistress Mary Accost-

TOBY

You mistake, knight. ’Accost’ is

’front her’, ’board her’, ’woo

her’, ’assail her’.

ANDREW

By my troth, I would not undertake

her in this company. Is that the

meaning of ’Accost’?

MARIA

Fare you well, gentlemen.

ANDREW

(rushes over to Maria)

An you part so, mistress, I would I

might never draw sword again. Fair

lady, do you think you have fools

in hand?

(He takes her hand.)

MARIA

Sir, I have not you by th’hand.

(She drops his hand.)

ANDREW

Marry, but you shall have, and

here’s my hand.

(He gives her his hand again.)

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 9.

MARIA

Now sir, thought is free. I pray

you, bring your hand to

th’buttery-bar and let it drink.

(She takes his bottle.)

ANDREW

Wherefore, sweetheart? What’s your

metaphor?

MARIA

It’s dry, sir.

(She drops his hand again and

thrusts the bottle on him.)

ANDREW

Why, I think so. I am not such an

ass but I can keep my hand dry. But

what’s your jest?

(He gives her his hand yet

again.)

MARIA

A dry jest, sir.

(She drops his hand, yet

again.)

ANDREW

Are you full of them?

(He gives her his hand one

last time.)

MARIA

Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers’

ends. Marry, now I let go your hand

I am barren.

(She drops his hand one final

time and exits.)

Andrew sets his bottle of Castiliano down, sits on a step,

pulls up his knees and looks dejected. There’s a canary in a

cage next to him.

TOBY

O knight, thou lack’st a cup of

canary. When did I see thee so put

down?

ANDREW

Never in your life, I think, unless

you see canary put me down.

Methinks sometimes I have no more

wit than a Christian or an ordinary

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 10.

ANDREW (cont’d)

man has; but I am a great eater of

beef, and I believe that does harm

to my wit.

TOBY

No question.

ANDREW

An I thought that, I’d forswear it.

I’ll ride home tomorrow, Sir Toby.

Toby sits down next to Andrew.

TOBY

Pourquoi, my dear knight?

ANDREW

What is ’pourquoi’? Do, or not do?

I would I had bestowed that time in

the tongues that I have in fencing,

dancing, and bear-baiting. O, had I

but followed the arts!

TOBY

Then hadst thou had an excellent

head of hair.

ANDREW

Why, would that have mended my

hair?

TOBY

Past question, for thou seest it

will not curl by nature.

ANDREW

But it becomes me well enough,

does’t not?

TOBY

Excellent: it hangs like flax on a

distaff, and I hope to see a

housewife take thee between her

legs and spin it off.

ANDREW

Faith, I’ll home tomorrow, Sir

Toby. Your niece will not be seen,

or if she be, it’s four to one

she’ll none of me. The Count

himself here hard by woos her.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 11.

TOBY

She’ll none o’th’Count. She’ll not

match above her degree, neither in

estate, years, nor wit - I have

heard her swear’t. Tut, there’s

life in’t, man.

ANDREW

I’ll stay a month longer. I am a

fellow o’th’ strangest mind i’th’

world: I delight in masques and

revels sometimes altogether.

TOBY

Art thou good at these

kick-shawses, knight?

ANDREW

As any man in Illyria, whatsoever

he be, under the degree of my

betters, and yet I will not compare

with an old man.

TOBY

What is thy excellence in a

galliard, knight?

ANDREW

Faith, I can cut a caper.

TOBY

And I can cut the mutton to’t.

ANDREW

And I think I have the back-trick

simply as strong as any man in

Illyria.

TOBY

Wherefore are these things hid?

Wherefore have these gifts a

curtain before ’em?

(Toby takes the bottle of

Castiliano and places it

between the two)

Are they like to take dust, like

Mistress Mall’s pictures? Why dost

thou not go to church in a

Galliard, and come home in a

Carranto? My very walk should be a

jig. I would not so much as make

water but in a cinquepace. What

dost thou mean? Is it a world to

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 12.

TOBY (cont’d)

hide virtues in? I did think by the

excellent constitution of thy leg,

it was formed under the star of the

galliard.

ANDREW

Ay, ’tis strong, and it does

indifferent well in a

lemon-coloured stock. Shall we set

about some revels?

TOBY

What shall we do else? Were we not

born under Taurus?

ANDREW

Taurus? That’s sides and heart.

TOBY

No, sir, it is legs and thighs: let

me see thee caper. Ha, higher! Ha,

ha, excellent!

Toby exits in a galliard and Andrew in a carranto.

ACT 1 SCENE 4

Enter Valentine and Viola in similar pageboy attire (after

slab on top of flowerbed has rezzed). The scene looks like

that of I.i, except the flowerbed has been replaced with

(covered by) a slab. Valentine and Viola stand on the slab.

VALENTINE

If the Duke continues these favours

towards you Cesario, you are like

to be much advance’d, he hath known

you but three days, and already you

are no stranger.

VIOLA

You either fear his humour, or my

negligence; that you call in

question the continuance of his

love. Is he inconstant sir, in his

favours.

VALENTINE

(immediately)

No, believe me.

Enter Duke Orsino, Curio in light conversation.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 13.

VIOLA

I thank you: here comes the Count.

Valentine leaves, nods to Duke Orsino.

DUKE ORSINO

Who saw Cesario ho?

VIOLA

On your attendance, my Lord, here.

DUKE ORSINO

Stand you a-while aloof. (Duke

Orsino nods to Curio, who leaves.)

Cesario, thou knowst no less, but

all: I have unclasp’d to thee the

book even of my secret soul.

Therefore good youth, address thy

gate unto her, be not deni’d

access, stand at her doors, and

tell them, there thy fixed foot

shall grow till thou have audience.

VIOLA

Sure my Noble Lord, if she be so

abandon’d to her sorrow as it is

spoke, she never will admit me.

DUKE ORSINO

Be clamorous, and leap all civil

bounds, rather than make

unprofitted return.

VIOLA

Say I do speak with her, my Lord,

what then?

DUKE ORSINO

O then, unfold the passion of my

love, surprise her with discourse

of my dear faith; it shall become

thee well to act my woes: she will

attend it better in thy youth, than

in a Nuntio’s of more grave aspect.

VIOLA

I think not so, my Lord.

DUKE ORSINO

(immediately)

Dear Lad, believe it; for they

shall yet belie thy happy years,

that say thou art a man: Diana’s

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 14.

DUKE ORSINO (cont’d)

lip is not more smooth, and

rubious: thy small pipe is as the

maidens organ, shrill, and sound,

and all is semblative a womans

part. I know thy constellation is

right apt for this affair: some

four or five attend him, and if you

will: for I myself am best when

least in company: prosper well in

this, and thou shall live as freely

as thy Lord, to call his fortunes

thine.

VIOLA

I’ll do my best to woo your Lady...

DUKE ORSINO nods and leaves. Viola stands alone centerstage

on top of where the violet bed once was. She beseeches the

audience:

VIOLA

Yet a barful strife, who e’re I

woo, my self would be his wife.

ACT 1 SCENE 5

Enter Maria and Clown from main stage level (downstairs).

MARIA

Nay, either tell me where thou hast

been, or I will not open my lips so

wide as a bristle may enter, in way

of thy excuse: my Lady will hang

thee for thy absence.

CLOWN

Let her hang me: he that is well

hang’d in this world, needs to fear

no colours.

MARIA

Make that good.

CLOWN

He shall see none to fear.

MARIA

A good lenton answer: I can tell

thee where that saying was born, of

"I fear no colours."

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 15.

CLOWN

Where good mistress Mary?

MARIA

In the wars, and that may you be

bold to say in your foolerie.

CLOWN

Well, God give them wisdom that

have it: and those that are fools,

let them use their talents.

Feste shows off some acrobatic animations, fool’s talent.

MARIA

Yet you will be hang’d for being so

long absent, or to be turn’d away:

is not that as good as a hanging to

you?

Feste hangs himself.

CLOWN

Many a good hanging prevents a bad

marriage: and for turning away, let

summer bear it out.

MARIA

You are resolute then?

CLOWN

Not so neither, but I am resolu’d

on two points.

MARIA

That if one breaks, the other will

hold; or if both breaks, your

gaskins will fall.

CLOWN

Apt, in good faith, very apt: well

go thy way. If sir Toby would leave

drinking, thou wert as witty a

piece of Eve’s flesh, as any in

Illyria.

MARIA

Peace, you rogue, no more o’that:

here comes my Lady: make your

excuse wisely, you were best.

Maria leaves hurriedly. Enter Lady Olivia, with Malvolio

from balcony (upstairs).

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 16.

CLOWN

(aside)

Wit, and’t be thy will, put me into

good fooling; those wits that think

they have thee, do very oft prove

fools: and I that am sure I lack

thee, may pass for a wise man. For

what says Quinapalus, "Better a

witty fool than a foolish wit."

Feste climbs stairs, and bows fancifully to Olivia.

God bless thee Lady.

OLIVIA

Take the fool away.

CLOWN

Do you not hear fellows, take away

the Lady.

OLIVIA

Go to, y’are a dry fool: I’ll no

more of you: besides you grow

dishonest.

CLOWN

Two faults Madonna, that drink and

good counsel will amend: for give

the dry fool drink, then is the

fool not dry: bid the dishonest man

mend himself, if he mend, he is no

longer dishonest; if he cannot, let

the Butcher mend him: anything

that’s mended, is but patch’d:

virtue that transgresses, is but

patcht with sin, and sin that

amends, is but patcht with virtue.

If that is simple Sillogism will

serve, so: if it will not, what

remedy? As there is no true Cuckold

but calamity, so beauties a flower;

The Lady bad take away the foole,

therefore I say againe, take her

away.

OLIVIA

Sir, I bid them take away you.

CLOWN

Misprision is the highest degree.

Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum:

that’s as much to say, as I were

not motley in my brain: good

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 17.

CLOWN (cont’d)

Madonna, give me leave to prove you

a fool.

OLIVIA

Can you do it?

CLOWN

Dexterously, good Madonna.

OLIVIA

Make your proof.

CLOWN

I must catechize you for it

Madonna, Good my Mouse of virtue

answer me.

(Mouse out.)

OLIVIA

(Ignoring the mouse.)

Well, sir, for want of other

idleness, I’ll bide your proof.

CLOWN

Good Madonna, why mournst thou?

OLIVIA

Good fool, for my brother’s death

CLOWN

I think his soul is in hell,

Madonna.

OLIVIA

I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

CLOWN

The more fool - Madonna - to mourn

for your Brother’s soul, being in

heaven. Take away the Fool,

Gentlemen.

OLIVIA

What think you of this fool

Malvolio, does he not mend?

MALVOLIO

Yes, and shall do, till the pangs

of death shake him: Infirmity that

decays the wise, doth ever make the

better fool.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 18.

CLOWN

God send you sir, a speedy

Infirmity, for the better

increasing your folly: Sir Toby

will be sworn that I am no Fox, but

he will not pass his word for two

pence that you are no Fool.

OLIVIA

How say you to that Malvolio?

MALVOLIO

I marvel your Ladyship takes

delight in such a barren rascal: I

saw him put down the other day,

with an ordinary fool, that has no

more brain than a stone. Look you

now, he’s out of his guard already;

unless you laugh and minister

occasion to him, he is gag’d. I

protest I take these Wisemen, that

crow so at these set kind of fools,

no better than the fools’ Zanies.

OLIVIA

Oh you are sick of self-love

Malvolio, and taste with a

distemper’d appetite. To be

generous, guiltless, and of free

disposition, is to take these

things for Bird-bolts that you deem

Cannon bullets: there is no slander

in an allow’d fool, though he do

nothing but rayle; nor no railing,

is a known discreet man, though he

do nothing but reprove.

CLOWN

Now Mercury endue thee with

leasing, for thou speak’st well of

fools.

Enter Maria from upstairs.

MARIA

Madam, there is at the gate, a

young Gentleman, much desires to

speak with you.

OLIVIA

From the Count Orsino, is it?

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 19.

MARIA

I know not, Madam, ’tis a fair

young man, and well attended.

OLIVIA

Who of my people hold him in delay?

MARIA

Sir Toby, Madame, your kinsman.

OLIVIA

Fetch him off I pray you, he speaks

nothing but madman: fie on him. Go

you, Malvolio, if it be at suit

from the Count, I am sick, or not

at home. What you will, to dismiss

it.

Exit Malvolio.

OLIVIA

Now you see sir how your fooling

grows old, and people dislike it.

CLOWN

Thou hast spoke for us, Madonna, as

if thy eldest son should be a fool:

whose skull Jove cram with brains,

for - here he comes!

Enter Toby from downstairs.

CLOWN

One of thy kin has a most weak

Pia-mater.

OLIVIA

By mine honor half drunk. What is

he at the gate Cousin?

TOBY

A Gentleman.

OLIVIA

A Gentleman? What Gentleman?

TOBY

’Tis a Gentleman here. A plague

o’these pickle herring: how now,

sot?

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 20.

CLOWN

Good Sir Toby.

OLIVIA

Cousin, cousin, how have you come

so early by this lethargy?

TOBY

Letcherie, I defy Letchery: there’s

one at the gate.

OLIVIA

Ay, marry, what is he?

TOBY

Let him be the devil and he will, I

care not: give me faith say I.

Well, it’s all one.

OLIVIA

What’s a drunken man like, fool?

CLOWN

Like a drown’d man, a fool, and a

mad man: one draught about heat,

makes him a fool, the second

maddens him, and a third drowns

him.

OLIVIA

Go thou and seek the coroner, and

let him sit o’my coz: for he’s in

the third degree of drink: he’s

drown’d: go look after him.

CLOWN

He is but mad yet Madonna, and the

fool shall look to the madman.

Exit Clown downstairs. Enter Malvolio.

MALVOLIO

Madam, yond young fellow swears he

will speak with you. I told him you

were sick, he takes on him to

understand so much, and therefore

comes to speak with you. I told him

you were asleep, he seems to have a

fore knowledge of that too, and

therefore comes to speak with you.

What is to be said to him, Lady,

he’s fortified against any denial.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 21.

OLIVIA

Tell him, he shall not speak with

me.

MALVOLIO

He’s been told so: and he says

he’ll stand at your door like a

Sherif post, and be the supporter

to a bench, but he’ll speak with

you.

OLIVIA

What kind of man is he?

MALV

Why of man kind

OLIVIA

What manner of man?

MALVOLIO

Of very ill manner: he’ll speak

with you, will you, or no.

OLIVIA

Of what personage and years is he?

MALVOLIO

Not yet old enough for a man, nor

young enough for a boy: as a squash

before ’tis a peascod, or a Codling

when ’tis almost an Apple: ’Tis

with him in standing water, between

boy and man. He is very

well-favour’d and he speaks very

shrewishly: One would think his

mother’s milk were scarce out of

him.

OLIVIA

Let him approach: Call in my

Gentlewoman

MALVOLIO

Gentlewoman, my Lady calls.

Enter Maria.

OLIVIA

Give me my veil: come throw it o’er

my face (dons veil), we’ll once

more hear Orsino’s embassy.

Enter Viola.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 22.

VIOLA

The honorable Lady of the house,

which is she?

OLIVIA

Speak to me, I shall answer for

her: your will?

VIOLA

Most radiant, exquisite, and

unmatchable beauty, I pray you tell

me if this be the Lady of the

house, for I never saw her. I would

be loath to cast away my speech,

for besides that it is excellently

well penned, I have taken great

pains to con it. Good beauties, let

me sustain no scorn; I am very

compatible, even to the least

sinister usage.

OLIVIA

Where came you, sir?

VIOLA

I can say little more than I have

studied, and that question’s out of

my part. Good gentle one, give me

modest assurance, if you be the

Lady of the house, that I may

proceed in my speech.

OLIVIA

Are you a comedian?

VIOLA

No, my profound heart: and yet (by

the very phangs of malice, I swear)

I am not that I play. Are you the

Lady of the house?

OLIVIA

If I do not usurp myself, I am.

VIOLA

Most certain, if you are she, you

do usurp yourself: for what is

yours to bestow, is, not yours to

reserve. But this is from my

Commission: I will on with my

speech in your praise, and then

shrew you the heart of my message.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 23.

OLIVIA

Come to what is important in’t: I

forgive you the praise.

VIOLA

Alas, I took great pains to study

it, and ’tis Poetical.

OLIVIA

It is the most like to be feigned,

I pray you keep it in. I heard you

were saucy at my gates, and allowd

your approach rather to wonder at

you, than to hear you. If you be

not mad, be gone: if you have

reason to be brief: ’tis not that

time of Moon with me, to make one

in so skipping a dialogue.

MARIA

Will you hoist sail sir, here lies

your way.

VIOLA

No, good swabber, I am to hull here

a little longer. Some mollification

for your Giant, sweet Lady.

OLIVIA

Tell me your mind.

VIOLA

I am a messenger.

OLIVIA

Sure you have some hiddeous matter

to deliver, when the courtesy of it

is so fearful. Speak your office.

VIOLA

It alone concerns your ear: I bring

no overture of war, no taxation of

homage; I hold the Olive in my

hand: my words are as full of

peace, as matter.

OLIVIA

Yet you began rudely. What are you?

What would you?

VIOLA

The rudeness that hath appeared in

me have I learned from my

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 24.

VIOLA (cont’d)

entertainment. What I am, and what

I would, are as secret as

maidenhead; to your ears, divinity,

to any other’s, profanation.

OLIVIA

Give us the place alone: we will

hear this divinity.

Exeunt all but Olivia and Viola

OLIVIA

Now, sir, what is your text?

VIOLA

Most sweet lady,--

OLIVIA

A comfortable doctrine, and much

may be said of it. Where lies your

text?

VIOLA

In Orsino’s bosom.

OLIVIA

In his bosom! In what chapter of

his bosom?

VIOLA

To answer by the method, in the

first of his heart.

OLIVIA

O, I have read it: it is heresy.

Have you no more to say?

VIOLA

Good Madam, let me see your face.

OLIVIA

Have you any Commission from your

Lord, to negotiate with my face:

you are now out of your Text: but

we will draw the Curtain, and show

you the picture.

Olivia lifts her veil.

Look you sir, such a one I was this

present: Ist not well done?

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 25.

VIOLA

Excellently done, if God did all.

OLIVIA

’Tis in graine sir, ’twill endure

winde and weather.

VIOLA

Tis beauty truly blent, whose red

and white, natures own sweet, and

cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are

the cruel’st she alive, if you will

lead these graces to the grave, and

leave world no copy.

OLIVIA

O sir, I will not be so

hard-hearted: I will give out

divers schedules of my beauty. It

shall be Inventoried and every

particle and utensil label’d to my

will: As item two lips

Olivia hurriedly puts on red lipstick. (Lipstick prop, and

change skin to red-lips).

indifferent red, Item two grey

eyes, with lids to them; Item: one

neck, one chin, and so forth. Were

you sent hither to praise me?

VIOLA

I see what you are; you are too

proud: but if you were the devil,

you are fair. My Lord, and master

loves you: O such love could not be

recompenc’d, though you were

crown’d the non-parallel of beauty.

OLIVIA

How does he love me?

VIOLA

With adorations, fertile tears,

with groans that thunder love, with

sighs of fire.

OLIVIA

Your Lord does know my mind, I

cannot love him yet I suppose him

virtuous, know him noble, of great

estate, of fresh and stainless

youth; in voices well divulg’d,

free, and valiant, and in

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 26.

OLIVIA (cont’d)

dimension, and the shape of nature,

a gracious person; but yet I cannot

love him: he might have took his

answer long ago.

VIOLA

If I did love you in my master’s

flame, with such a suff’ring, such

a deadly life: in your denial, I

would find no sense, I would not

understand it.

OLIVIA

Why, what would you?

VIOLA

Make me a willow cabin at your

gate, and call upon my soul within

the house, write loyal cantons of

condemned love, and sing them loud

even in the dead of night: hallow

your name to the reverberate hills,

and make the babbling gossip of the

air, cry out Olivia: O you should

not rest between the element of

air, and earth, but you should pity

me.

OLIVIA

You might do much: what is your

parentage?

VIOLA

Above my fortunes, yet my state is

well: I am a Gentleman.

OLIVIA

Get you to your Lord: I cannot love

him: let him send no more, unless

perchance you come to me again, to

tell me how he takes it: fare you

well: I thank you for your pains:

spend this for me. (Gives Viola

Coin)

VIOLA

I am no feed post, Lady; keep your

purse, my master not my self, lacks

recompence. Love make his heart of

flint, that you shall love, and let

your fervour, like my master’s, be,

plac’d in contempt: farewell fair

cruelty.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: 27.

Exit Viola.

OLIVIA

"What is your Parentage?" "Above my

fortunes, yet my state is well; I

am a Gentleman." I’ll be sworn thou

art, thy tongue, thy face, thy

limbs, actions, and spirit, do give

thee five-fold blazon: not too

fast: soft, soft, unless the Master

were the man. How now? Even so

quickly may one catch the plague?

Methinks I feel this youth’s

perfections with an invisible, and

subtle stealth to creep in at mine

eyes. Well, let it be. What ho,

Malvolio.

Enter Malvolio

MALVOLIO

Here, Madam, at your service.

OLIVIA

Run after that same peevish

Messenger the Count’s man: he left

this ring behind him would I, or

not: tell him, I’ll none of it.

Desire him not to flatter with his

Lord, nor hold him up with hopes, I

am not for him. If that the youth

will come this way tomorrow, I’ll

give him reasons for’t: hie thee

Malvolio.

MALVOLIO

Madam, I will.

Malvolio exits swiftly from balcony. Olivia descends stairs

to main stage level:

OLIVIA

I know not what, and fear to find

mine eye too great a flatterer for

my mind: fate, show thy force, our

selves we do not owe, what is

decreed, must be: and be this so.

Exit Olivia.